Thousand Needles
by iamlouisemarie
Summary: The world I lived in was perfect. We never had to worry. We were never sick. We'd never have anything to overthink. Our world was a place of peace and serenity. Our choices were always made for us and we trusted the system. We'd never had any reason not to. The world I lived in was perfect. The world I lived in was like a dream. The world I lived in wasn't real.


The world I lived in was perfect. We never had to worry. We were never sick. We'd never have anything to overthink. Our world was a place of peace and serenity. Our choices were always made for us and we trusted the system. We'd never had any reason not to. The world I lived in was perfect. The world I lived in was like a dream. The world I lived in wasn't real.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.  
>You'd have thought living in a perfect world, with perfect people who lived perfect lives would have a perfect way to wake someone. In any normal world, I'd have been able to turn over and hit a snooze button to silence the sound. But in my world the alarm kept ringing until we made it through to breakfast. My mother was always first, setting up our recyclable dishes on the dining table. I wondered how she'd manage to wake herself before the alarm. I'd never been able to.<p>

I sat beside my father, while my mother set my younger sister into her highchair before sitting alongside her. My father smiled down at me as he lifted the lid from the dish on his table mat. It was the same brown mush he'd eat every morning, full of the things he needed. We were all served different because our bodies needed different things, ranging from vitamins and minerals to fats and carbs. Neither of my parents complained about the meals we were given, and my toddling sister was too young to understand that she was eating slop. Me, however, I wasn't the biggest fan. The food gave me what I needed and left me healthy, but held no flavour, no colours.  
>"We have to be on the five o'clock shuttle to the city hall," My father stated. "Your clothing will be sent through the shoot Boe. You must be ready."<br>I nodded as I took my first mouthful of the mush, smiling as I swallowed. I knew what I had to do and the order I had to do it. It was something my family and I had spoken about for weeks now. I ate my second mouthful without lifting my eyes from my dish, scraping the must from the edges. "You have nothing to be nervous of, Boe. The system is perfect. It'll give you the best life." My mother smiled at me, averting her eyes only to feed my sister. I didn't respond. Only ate.

My parents headed out as they always did at eight. Usually they'd be gone until five, though under the circumstances of today, they'd be let out early and be home for four. Carmen, my sister, would be home at the same time as my mother once picked up from the day care centre. So until four this afternoon, I had a rare opportunity of a day to myself, to do with as I wanted.  
>I stepped out into the morning sun and inhaled deeply. The air was clean and cool, the soft breeze blowing through the perfectly trimmed, green trees. I took in the view of my street for what would probably be the last time. It was perfect. Symmetrical in every way. Bungalows stood opposite each other, separated by a thin, grey road that only two buses would travel down: one for the adults who were headed off out to work and one for the people like me, who were still in education. Each garden yard was a perfect shade of green, a single tree planted in the middle of the grass patch, right in front of our living room window. We had no space for a car, or a bike. Cars were only given to those families who were high up enough to live in the city centre, who were the government to our world.<br>Living a few houses down from me was my best friend. Jameson Falkor. He'd been my best friend since the first day of school when I'd first felt doubt. When someone outside of my family had shown me reassurance. Since that day almost seventeen years ago, he'd been a special part of my life. I smiled to myself as the memory ran through my mind for the hundredth time, the door to Jameson's home opening, releasing a tall figure. A hand rose into the air, waving over to me as a grin spread over the dark face, a set of white teeth gleaming in my direction. That was Jameson. His body twisted as he pulled the door closed behind himself, before making his way into my small yard.  
>"Good morning, Miss Satin." His arms opened to pull me into his usual bear hug, a hug that I'd miss once the day was done. "How are you feeling?" He let me go, lifting both his hands to rest down against my shoulders. "Are you ready?"<br>I raised my right brow at him, shaking my head slowly as a laugh escaped my lips. "Jameson, I think you're the only person that could be so prepared for a day like today." His laugh filled my ears, my eyes never shifting from his face. He sighed quietly once his laughter silenced and I knew exactly what was going through his mind. I shook my own head, folding my arms against the white t-shirt at my stomach. "Hey, it's okay. It's not your fault you're male and I'm not. We'll make something work."  
>I lied. Fact was Jameson had today lucky. All of the boys in our neighbourhood had it lucky. Today was a day we were matched with the person that would bring out our best, who was a perfect match for us in every possible way. Looks never mattered in our world, no one was unattractive. The system of matching us up relied purely on our DNA and our future. Together with our match, we'd make a perfect pair, a perfect family and a perfect life. It was all based on the children we'd have, the future generation. A future of perfect human beings. As a woman, if I were to be matched up with someone from a different town to me, I'd leave with them after the ceremony and never come back. I'd never see my parents again, or my sister, or my best friend. I'd spend the rest of my life, making a new life with my new family. Jameson however, he was lucky. Being a man meant he'd be able to stay in his town with his parents close by, bringing his new partner into his town, into his life and his family. It was safe to say I had a huge inkling that our government was overrun by men.<p>

Jameson and I lay together in silence for a while on my lawn. He was never uncomfortable to be around, there were never awkward silences. He lay flat on his back with his hands cushioned behind his head, watching the turquoise sky above our heads. There were never any clouds. No birds, no butterflies, wasps, bees.  
>"Did your parents ask for the day off for today?" I shook my head no, leaving my eyes closed from the sunlight. "Mine either. Though, today isn't as big of a deal as it is for you." He paused for a while and I knew the cogs in his head were working overtime. I turned to lay on my side, supporting my head with the heel of my hand, my elbow resting into the grass.<br>"What are you hoping for out of today, Jameson?" I opened my eyes to look down at him, nudging his arm with my fingers. "It'll be fine for you. Remember? 'Trust the system.'"  
>He slid his eyes to me before the two of us together burst into laughter. Jameson had been telling me for years to trust the system that we had, because it was only there for us to have the best in our lives. I'd never fully believed in the system and Jameson was the only person I'd ever confided in to admit it. I knew he'd never tell any of my secrets, not that I even had any other than that one. So hearing me repeat those words of encouragement to him, was funny. "Honestly, I don't' know. I don't want to lose my best friend. I don't want to be matched with somebody who I don't think is my other half, you know? I don't want to disappoint my parents..." Jameson continued but I didn't hear his words. I shook my head, rolling my eyes with a smile on my lips. "I don't want to disappoint the system."<br>"Jameson." I spoke. He stopped. "It doesn't matter what happens today, you won't be a disappointment to anyone. You're too good for that." I paused briefly, grazing my teeth over my lower lip. "Everyone who meets you loves you. Everyone knows you're going to go far." I wasn't lying to Jameson. He was a smart guy with huge potential. There was no reason his parents would feel disappointed. Or the government.

Jameson and I headed inside where he helped me pin my hair back into a decent looking ponytail. Nothing ever seemed to amaze me anymore with what he could do. "Did they send you your outfit already?" He asked, whilst sliding the third pin into the back of my hair. I had to stop myself shaking my head; I didn't want to risk the job in motion falling to pieces.  
>"No, not yet. Do you know what kind of clothing they send us?"<br>As I watched his reflection in the mirror, a grin spread over Jameson's lips. His eyes never left the back of my head; his hands never left my hair. "My dad told me I'll get a suit. I looked into it, in my free period and it seems true. You should be getting a dress. They'll send everything from the dress down to the shoes. All we have to worry about, it our hair." He stood back and upright as he finished his sentence, gesturing to the back of my head. "And that's already something crossed from your list."

"Will you need help this evening? You know, I could help with your hair… With whatever you're doing with it." I instantly wished I hadn't bothered opening my mouth. I was terrible with my hands and styling someone's hair was all hand work. I could see it now; Jameson dressed well in his brand new perfectly fitted suit, looking as sharp as always. And then there was his hair, styled by his best friend who's made him look as though he'd stood under a hairdryer for hours before holding it all in place. I covered my hands to hide my face as I laughed, Jameson laughing along with me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have offered." I peeked up at my friend through my fingers, quickly opening my arms to pull him into a hug. "Thank you, Jameson. I appreciate this." I stood holding him for a short while, and I realized he was probably letting me hug him because of what today was. I never thought I'd meant as much to Jameson as he meant to me, but now maybe I had been wrong the whole time. He was my best friend. Maybe I was his after all. His cheek was pressed against my temple as he hugged me back, his arms tightly around my waist.  
>"You know, I think I'd like to take up your help with my hair, if that's okay?"<p>

I was amazed at how well my hands were cooperating with my brain. Helping Jameson with his hair turned out to be something I was almost good at. Though in all honesty, he'd gone for something sleek and simple, probably for my benefit. He'd spoke to me the whole time I ran my fingers back and forth over his scalp, before greasing up the comb with gel, smoothing it over his hair. I'd decided to part his hair to the left, folding it over each side of his head. And it really, really wasn't that bad. "I don't understand why they think that's acceptable, though…" I heard him state, before finding his eyes in the mirror looking at me. I looked back at him, blanker than a fresh canvas. A laugh filled the small room we were sitting in, vibrating in my ears. "You haven't heard a thing I've said, have you?"  
>I shook my head no, pressing my lips together in a tight line.<br>"In my defence, I've been concentrating!" I laughed, holding my hands up in a sign of surrender. I wasn't lying. I'd been concentrating very hard on his hair. And for good reason. It was coming along nicely. I slid myself around the chair to lean back against the wooden dressing table, folding my arms, still holding the gel covered comb, against my stomach. "You have my full, undivided attention."  
>Jameson shook his head at me, a grin still spread over his lips that met his eyes. He cleared his throat softly, lifting one of his hands to fist in front of his lips, before he began for what would be the second time. "I don't understand how one person can determine the future for someone. How they get to tell us everything, day to day, from the small things like our food, our exercise, our routines to those much larger, like a match that we'll spend our lives with. How can someone other than myself know who is the perfect match for me? How do they know if I like blonde hair, brown hair, green eyes, blue eyes, plump lips, thin waists, intelligence? Or what if I just want someone who's full of curves, wide hips, a round waist, who can't cook, and now quite as smart as others? How can they know?" I was listening to him, of course I was. But I have no idea, in Jameson's mind, where these doubts had come from. He'd never let on that he'd doubted anything before.<br>"And what makes them think they get to decide when I want to find my life partner? Who said at the age of twenty I'd be ready to settle down, get married and have my first child within the next year? I haven't even finished with my education. Why would I give up my education for a job, to support a stranger and get her pregnant?" Still, he continued. "You know, I never once thought that I'd be told I was going to lose my virginity at the age of twenty with a complete stranger." It fell silent in the room, and his thoughts made perfect sense in my mind. My mother had told me of losing her virginity with my dad, and how uncomfortable everything was and I realized then what is was that Jameson was getting at. How could you trust someone, a stranger, with something that was so precious? As if things weren't going to be uncomfortable enough? "I know that our minds aren't supposed to work against the system," Jameson continued. "But of course I have thought of what it would be like, to be with someone who you know, who you can trust, who you're already comfortable with, you know?"  
>I nodded my head, slowly. I could see where he was coming from. Again. It would make the most precious part of our lives much easier, smoother. I guess if we knew what it was we were doing, it would make being matched less awkward. His sigh left his lips to be the only noise in the room.<br>"You know, we shouldn't really think about this. We're supposed to go with how the night turns out. Trust the…"  
>"Trust the system, I know."<br>I offered my best friend the best reassuring smile that I could. It felt weird to me, to be the one to reassure my friend that everything would be fine, when he was always the one to reassure me. It had always been that way. I unfolded my arms from my stomach and ran the comb back through the right side of his dark hair, sleeking it back into its final place. "Don't let tonight worry you." I spoke as confidently as I could fathom.

Jameson left mid-afternoon to head home, as he always did at the same time each day, to do his homework out. Of course we were all scheduled to work out; though Jameson was the only person I knew who chose to work out on his rare day off. I smiled up at him as he turned to face me at the door to my home. I reminded myself to remember this moment. To savour this moment and the friendship we had. It would be the last time we'd be this way together; quite possibly the last time we'd see each other. I took in his features: His eyes, smaller than they should be to make his face perfect, and dark enough to look black in the sunlight. His cheek bones were high and well defined. Quite feminine. He had his father's nose, bumped in the middle of the bridge, and hooked at the apex. His lips were my favourite. Plump and always smooth looking. His cupids bow dipped low enough to make any female jealous, joining to the border of his lips that were always curved into a smile, even without trying. His jaw line was strong and chiselled. I couldn't help imagine him looking older, with stubble allowed to show through his skin. He'd be a handsome man, a handsome father and handsome father. God, my best friend was beautiful.  
>I was in his arms before I had time to change my thoughts, before I had time to wish him the best of luck. I'd miss his hugs that trapped me in the arms of a bear, the hugs that were always able to have me focus on my breathing instead of leaving it to happen naturally. I'd miss the reassurance I could get from being in his arms. I brought up both my hands to rest against his shoulder blades, patting at the muscles in his back as I lay my chin against his shoulder. It didn't matter what happened, who we were matched with or when it was that we'd next see each other, Jameson was my best friend. And there was nothing that could change that.<p>

My parents were back for four o'clock on the dot as they said they would be. Our lunch was sent out an hour early through the shoot. No one spoke whilst eating, and the portions were terribly small compared to what we usually had. Diner was pretty uncomfortable actually.  
>My outfit was sent as soon as my mother cleaned up the dishes and sent them back through the shoot. I had no idea what they could have crammed into a single package. Usually each item of clothing was wrapped individually. My mother brought it through to my bedroom, the last room of the house, once I'd finished showering. She laid the package on the bed, pulling open the ribbon wrapped around the wrapping. I stood by her side in my towel, my hair still perfect from the help of Jameson. The ribbon fell to the floor, the wrapping falling open as though it had been pulled too tightly.<p>

My eyes widened instantly at the colour choice. I'd never in my life worn purple, even if it did look washed out with shades of white and grey. My wardrobe had only ever given me a choice of cream. Cream, in a select few different shades. My mother pinched the top of the fabric with her fingers, lifting it from the packaging on my bed for the two of us to admire. And admire is exactly what we did. It was a beautiful dress. A mixture of purples, mixed with white and grey, with an elegant floral pattern at either side of the bodice, though large on the left. It was brought together in the middle with a thin, black ribbon that tied in the centre in a perfect bow. I caught my mother glance at me from my peripheral vision as I remained focused on the dress. Looking back at photos of my mother and fathers matching day, there was no skin on show that needed to be shown. No chest, no legs. And yet the dress my mother was holding was sure to fall to my knees, if I was lucky. I'd never dreamt of wearing something so short, something that would show so much of my body. I'd never thoughts I'd been allowed to wear something like the dress at hand. Had they sent me the right dress? Were they trying to test me, to see if I would wear the dress? I looked up at my mom and the expression on her face mimicked my own.


End file.
